What The Heart Wants
by QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Regulus Black is dead. Or is he? Kingsley seeks out a small shop in Muggle London to see if that statement is true.


**House/Team: Lions**

**Class Subject: Care of Magical Creatures**

**Category: Drabble**

**Prompt(s): [Object] Antique ring; Don't include any of the top 20 most mentioned Harry Potter characters**

**Wordcount: 500-1000: 704**

The bell above the shop door rang merrily as Kingsley pushed it open, one booted foot coming up to give it the final push needed, wood sticking due to the damp. It was a relief to be away from the rain, water coming down in sheets, an unrelenting roar that drove all but the most desperate person off the streets and into any available shelter. Kingsley pushed back his hood, water cascading from his shaved scalp, and wiped his boots on the mat, glancing around the shop in which he had taken shelter.

It was laid out as the brief said, a thin room with an alcove to his left, pressed in by two larger chain stores on the street branching off from the main high street. A table rested beneath the window, it's surface littered with brightly coloured books and small figures resting on a board, seemingly caught in the act of crossing a painted bridge.

"Hello."

A man reappeared from the small back room, closing the door behind him with a click that seemed loud amidst the falling rain.

"Can I help you?"

Regulus kept the mild-mannered grin on his face as Kingsley murmured his excuse. A simple 'I'm just looking', and the man wandering past him and further into the shop — somehow it made Regulus' skin crawl. The Auror's weren't particularly concerned with looking for a dead man, and Regulus had slipped through the cracks of the Ministry bureaucracy easily. His mother would have been proud, even if she'd have ripped her own eyes out at the thought of her youngest son passing as a Muggle; and he did. Everything related to the Wizarding World had been worn away like waves against a beach. The only thing tying him to his old life was the ring on his finger and the masked tattoo on his arm.

"Horrible weather isn't it?"

"It's London, this is basically summer," Regulus answered, consciously removing his fidgeting fingers from the twisting the ring round and round his finger.

Kingsley chuckled, it was a low, rich sound, and for a moment Regulus was taken back to the Hogwarts Library. He remembered it like it was yesterday, tapping the ring against his teeth as he read, listening to Kingsley's laugh filled the air.

"That's an interesting ring."

Ice flooded Regulus' veins, heart leaping into his throat as he lowered his hand, pretending to study the ring. It was a heavy pewter ring, a soft grey patina spanning the surface around the fake pearl in the centre. He tried to leave it, but the shaking panic that had descended on him made him anxious. The sheer uncomfortable sensation of bare skin underneath his fidgeting fingertips had left him pale-faced and light-headed. It was a risk he had been willing to take.

"I found it in a charity shop a few years ago. Only five pounds, a bargain," Regulus said, raising his hand to show Kingsley, an unnecessary move, but one needed to maintain his disguise.

Kinglsey whistled in appreciation, shooting him a crooked smile.

"A bargain, much like this," he said, tapping one of the spines he had been inspecting.

The bell rang out as the door closed behind Kinglsey and Regulus felt his knees knock against the desk, fighting the urge to collapse against the wood. He carefully inspected the metal, tapping one nail against the fake pearl and hearing the dull thud. His disgust at first learning what the ring was made from seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, and it had. He had left Regulus Black to die in a tiny seashore cave and emerged Felix Jones. Now, that could all be ripped away from him because of a ring he was too weak to give up.

Regulus sighed, pushing himself up from the desk and moved towards the back of the shop. He couldn't help it, as he half took notice of the surveillance spell woven into some of his books, half driven by the desire for coffee. He retrieved a discarded cup from a high shelf. The hidden bone fragment held enough magic that he could escape even a Ministry dampener spell. He would survive, he always would, recognisable ring or not.


End file.
